


Uphill

by CosmicPeppermintLatte



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alcohol, Break Up, Drabble, Drinking, Heartbreak, M/M, minor depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 09:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2105313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicPeppermintLatte/pseuds/CosmicPeppermintLatte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco tries to come to terms with a bad relationship, at the stage where moving on seems unthinkable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uphill

**Author's Note:**

> Just a drabble based of real life a experience that I had to put into words.

I sat there for what seemed like hours, glaring daggers into my peppermint latte. If there was anything on this planet that could have improved my mood, it was this seldom ordered drink that I only had once in a blue moon when my life was falling apart; And it is doing nothing but pissing me off even more.

I left him. I couldn’t take it anymore, the sneaking around, the secret texts, only holding his hand when we were in a different town. He promised me, once he got his life together and he figured everything out that he would dump the girl he was dating and come back to me. How many times did he say that? First it was after his birthday passed, then it was once he graduated from the police academy, next it was after his girl left the country for some teaching program god knows where. But all these times came and went and all his promises didn’t amount to anything because he could never follow through.

So here I am, Marco Bodt 22 years old, single as hell, sitting in some rundown Starbucks five minutes away from my ex boyfriend’s apartment, to mad to even drink my lukewarm cup of sugar that was supposed to be making me feel better…

I end up not even finishing half of it when I’m shuffling out the door. I’m vaguely aware of myself getting on the train and walking back up to my apartment. I put the cup in the microwave to be dealt with later, and I slide down on my couch picking up a half finished bottle of French wine he gave me hardly a week ago. I figure I might as well finish it now so I don’t have to look at it in the morning.

And that’s exactly what I do. I finish all the contents in that bottle and the rest of the shitty American whiskey I have stashed under the sink. I blaze through my apartment with a warm ache in my chest. I take everything he’s given me, the books that I cherished, the tea cup he claimed was meant for me, the jacket he’d put around me on a cold night that he never bothered getting back; everything. Everything that even reminded me of him all went into the far corner of my closet. Again, for me to deal with on another day.

I flung myself onto my bed hoping that after all the crap I sorted through that sleep would finally claim me. It didn't of course, and all my drunken thoughts drifted to him. That asshole, with this stupid smirk and tawny hair that brought me to my knees. My mother always warned me about the drugs on the streets, but never once did she mention the ones with that had amber eyes and a heartbeat.

He’s stupid. I try to remind myself that. If he really wanted you back then he would have broken up with his stupid rebound girlfriend that’s he’s been hanging onto for the past year and a half… And he would have come back to you already. I deserve better than this and I know it. Even with all the excuses he’s made, telling me that he just needed to do things of his own accord and to just give him some time. Fuck, I gave him all the time and patience in the world! I gave him everything I could, everything I had, and all he gave me in return were fleeting kisses and empty promises of the life we would have.

I kept his last words in my head. “If you really think so.” He told me that after I had gotten mad and threw a fit in his living room. All my feelings came out to him. I yelled, and I cried, and I told him that if he really loved me then he should have left her, and she must really be something to you if you've held on this long. I don’t even remember half of the things I told him anymore. They just all came out like word vomit while I watched his hard face listening to everything I had to say without uttering a word of comfort or retaliation.

I loved him; fuck I love him. But he’s broken my heart over and over and I just know this isn't how things are supposed to be. I’m unhappy and lonely and this isn’t a healthy relationship and I’m rambling again. But I know things are for this best now and that I need to let go of this toxic love.

I pull my covers up to my shoulders and bury my face into my pillow that I swear smells like him. I ignore it and let the warm buzz wash over me. I think of all the things I want to do. Take that trip to Europe, visit the new coffee shop on the east side of town, start working on that kitchen project I keep talking about but never bother getting started on.

I slowly drift to sleep thinking happy thoughts of the future. But for some reason when I dream, he’s there doing all the things beside me, his phantom presence a constant warm reminder that it’s all uphill from here.


End file.
